2000

The love for Quidditch had experienced a very tragic twist in his sixth year, when the burden of saving the lives of his parents had pressed him face down under the feet of the Dark Lord, though it was just now, that he realised his performance in the task didn't have to do anything with his decisions. It was a mere trick to lure him into the world of crime, and he had very stupidly fallen for it, in fear of even losing his life in the process.

But, if Hogwarts had ever taken anything from him, it was the assumption that he was the best in the game within the school, Harry being the living proof of it. It was a nice experience of witnessing Harry back on his broom again, trying to master the snitch in his grasp, just like old days. The only difference this time had, was his presence in the stands with the other eighth years instead of in the sky flying for his house to win the match. Cheering from beneath felt odd, yet he enjoyed the flushed excitement and thrill while following the red and green dots on the sky, sometimes jumbling up the identity of the players in his pinched vision.

It hadn't been very hard for him to decide to not take part in the game, keeping an eye on the uncertainty of his ability against Harry, which had been proven year after year in each game he had played against him. Though he couldn't point it as the definite reason behind his rejection, as the gradually growing urge in him to remain at the sides came in his way at every step he took. Maybe that was the reason he had apologised to Harry about his out of the line behaviour on the night of Christmas, and when demanded for the reason, he had just blamed it on his father, the easiest way to brush it off his shoulder.

The New Year's night had ended with Harry and Ginny splitting, though there was a possibility of Harry already wanting the separation, for he had seemed too composed for someone to feel remorse. Only Ron and Hermione could now confirm the fact about the actual reason of Harry being so casual about Ginny, not that Ginny herself had been a lot serious about the matter, but Draco was yet to bring up the topic with them.

Beside him, Blaise seemed bored out of his wits and Pansy had long since vanished from his eyesight, claiming that the game was straining her eyes and could start a headache. Being it the first week of January, the snow was still sticking to the ground and sometimes was replenished by the late night snowing. Fortunately, the wind wasn't very strong that morning, or he doubted the players would still be flying around the sky with such speed and not dropping like frozen flies.

"...and Harry Potter has caught the snitch!" the stands roared in familiar celebration, and even though Slytherin had lost, an appreciative smile played on Draco's lips as he saw Harry swish down on the magically dried ground and threw his hand clutching the snitch in air in excitement.

"The Slytherins lost." Blaise pointed out from beside him with his hands pressed to his ears to block the deafening roar of complaints from behind him.

"I know." he said, giving him a side-eye.

"Why are you smiling?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Because it was a fair game. Now let's go!" Draco urged, noticing the crowd gathering up near the exit, even after the several requests from McGonagall to form a queue.

On the grounds between the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's hut, Draco waited for the group to gather up, as their plan to visit Hogsmeade for dinner was yet to be executed. From afar, he noticed the light on the small window glowing like a lamp in the dark, leading the way into the darkness of the forest. Once in a while, Hagrid invited the trio over his hut for tea and cake which they refused to talk about, but he kind of made it out himself that they didn't quite like the food they were served. That's the only thing that had remained the same from the very first year.

Around the month of November, he had learnt about the Ground keeper's brother Grawf. According to Hermione, he was like any giant, stupid and huge, but Hagrid thought otherwise, since he had learnt a lot of English over the couple years which Hagrid had taught himself on his regular visit on the mountains.

Kicking at the snow with his boots, he suddenly considered to go and knock the door, surprising himself with his thoughts, though he had suspicions if Hagrid would even welcome him inside. But there was a difference between thinking and actually carrying oneself to do the action, and Draco shook his head at himself for being the surprisingly huge coward that he couldn't love.

After a wait of around ten minutes, Draco saw the silhouettes of Pansy and Blaise followed by the three Gryffindors they lately hung out with, and he waved at them from the distance.

"Thought you'd change?" Pansy questioned, as soon as she reached his hearing range.

"I did, the coat." he nodded his head once, eyes travelling to Harry within a short second.

He was wearing all black, just like him; jumper, muggle pants which they called jeans, and a blazer which complimented his broad shoulders on a new level.

"Oh, alright, let's go. I'm hungry." Pansy rolled her eyes at him, which he turned his back on.

A sweet fragrance travelled to Draco's nostrils; even though it was foreign, he recognised the scent of whiskey mixed with it within a split second, the mixture giving him a whiplash as his eyes grew wide at the speed that his heart picked up and a smile forced his lips up, which lasted the ride to the village.

The scenery in the famous trip spot momentarily buried the memory of fragrance from his mind, allowing him to look around the place with interest. The left over signs of the belated Christmas and New Year hung from the wooden doors of the stores and buildings lined on the either sides of the streets, though the enchanted miniature flames flickered weakly from most of the windows that they crossed paths with, their magic wearing off from the cheap sorcery mechanism. Yet, it looked beautiful.

Every year, during the festivities, the village gears up for the huge wave of wizards that files up in and out of the restaurants, bars and shops all over the village. Even now, after a week of New Year, the place was packed up from inside with dwellers and travellers for the lingering snow over the peeking grass from beneath.

"Let's go to Tracy's." Harry suggested from behind him, and Draco turned his head with eyebrows raised.

"That's a bar." he quipped with a smirk.

"That's a bar cum diner. C'mon, I've been there a lot." Harry nodded his head, his glasses blinking in the light, letting him an image of sinister underground muggle criminal bundled up with his perfect outfit, set to achieve his mission. And, Draco almost let the laugh slip through his lips, if Hermione had not showed her opposition of going to a bar, again.

With a sigh, Draco turned away from the banter that turned the voice of the group up over the crowd around them without his consent. Though, that was the only difference between the Slytherins and Gryffindors he could jot down these days in the Common Room and dorms, their loud way to love someone, in a good way, sometimes making him wish for the way of affection in the dead of the nights.

The menu was useless, for he never knew what they tried to say and while reading the description under the names, it took him ages to decide, earning irritation from people waiting for the piece of laminated parchment. Hence, he had given everybody a chance before he could decide on his platter of delicacies he'd like from the place. Almost, when Blaise had managed to snatch the card out of his hands, he had decided on some beef based main course, salad for the starter and a serving of Jack Daniels instead of the dessert, unconsciously copying Harry from the opposite side of the table.

They weren't the only group from Hogwarts though, as he could notice Romilda Vane and Luna Lovegood on the other corner of the bar, sipping on cocktails and munching crisps. After glancing at Harry once, his unawareness of their presence was proved as he chatted on with Blaise and Ron animatedly, ignoring Hermione's scowl at the glass of whiskey he was sipping at.

"Hey, that's Looney!" Pansy whispered near his ear with excitement, nodding at the pair sitting in the corner.

"Yes, I've noticed." Draco nodded his head. "Don't look at them too long if you don't want them to come over." Draco muttered putting in a piece of beef in his mouth.

"Come on, they aren't that bad. I like Romilda!" she shook her head with a frown.

"Rich coming from you." Draco contradicted with a playful scoff.

"Look across the table." with a sarcastic glare, Pansy waved a hand at the duo to attract their attention.

The drunken faces ignited a level of temporary confidence in him, helping him to stand up and acknowledge their presence with a couple greetings and smiles. Though the most effected were a couple of girls and a guy. Hermione, who till now was glaring at Harry got herself a vodka based cocktail "for some fun" and Pansy supposed there were too many people to do refills and unnecessarily tire the waiters, hence she ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels on Harry's request.

The flat atmosphere of the bar soon vibrated with interest and happiness, especially emerging from the ladies who were almost drunk when they met the others. In the end, Draco concluded that he didn't mind the company so much, despite his opinion of Romilda Vane being the biggest bogus of Hogwarts after Adrian Puccey.

"I'd never do that!" Harry protested.

"Stop it, you almost replied to her." Hermione laughed from beside him. "I'm the Chosen One." she mocked him.

"Well, it's the truth!" Harry laughed.

"It may be the truth, but get that foot out of your mouth, now." Draco quipped, earning him a slap on his hand.

"Ugh, alright, I'm full of myself. And yes, Romilda, Ron was the one who opened your letter and fell in love with you." Harry agreed with a defeated nod.

"Mate, you always have to push me in the pit, don't you?" Ron hit Harry in the back of his head.

"What, it's not my fault you read it first! I had to take you to Slughorn to wear off the potion." Harry laughed aloud, as he ducked away from the second blow coming his way.

Whether it had slipped their minds or they intentionally skipped it, Draco didn't know, but the three of them remained silent about the incident that had followed while Ron was in Slughorn's office. Sneaking glances at Romilda's hand on Harry's arm while she giggled with a blush on her actions that the trio narrated, Draco mostly remained silent, though did not at all feel bored, as they listened to the stories with wrapped attention, and laughed along with the others.

Even on their way back, Luna decided on talking about her father's one of the rebellious articles, that had caused the ban of the whole issue of Quibbler, when, according to her, the nargles were ruling the country. Despite of the awkward topic, Draco had cracked when he had tried to imagine the Dark Lord as some floaty creature, called nargles.

The perennial radishes on her ears had been replaced with jazzy earings that twinkled and jingled as they rode back on the carriage pulled by thestrals to Hogwarts around nine. The little observations never seemed to be too petty to Draco, because they often helped him assess their changes in behaviour or growth of person, which he loved doing. Though the previous fifteen minutes had been caught up by the thigh that had been brushing against his leg with the sway of the carriage attracting his consciousness away from discussion about Luna's father.

Erasing the fragrance of Harry wasn't very easy with his drunken mind travelling back to the September night they had shared a dorm room for the first time, when Harry had offered the hand of friendship to end the era of their contempt for each other. Then, he had been surprised and laughed with part excitement and confusion, though later Harry had assured or rather promised that he didn't have any intentions of making a joke out of it; that he was serious. Slowly Draco had caught up with his habit of drinking and had often witnessed him passed out on his bed with a half filled bottle waiting beside the bed.

A handful nights, thay had sat and spoken about their mundane lives, but that was on the first couple months of the new term, when Ron and Hermione used to disappear somewhere unknown and left them with the offhanded tension that Harry had decided to sort out with kisses. But it hadn't worked for Draco, rather had blown his mind and he had to settle for the excuse of experimental homosexual acts that he could only frown upon. Or the more plausible explanation could be his intoxicated state which had made him do it, but even then, he prefered the first one.

The temperature had fallen once again with the heavy clouds lingering in the sky to break down on earth, and the absence of enough stars did not please him enough to stay outside the castle any longer. By the time he had trotted under the ceiling of the entrance hall, thin flakes of snow were already floating down upon the ground accompanied by a strong wind.

The building could have been warmer if the walls weren't made of stones, Draco supposed. But the ancient structure had it's own magic, stronger than any human being that had ever walked around behind the walls and Draco couldn't complain about its abilities. Hence when he reached the door of the boys' dorm, he sighed in relief, already feeling the fatigue generated by the alcohol in his system.

"They are gone, again."

Draco turned, halting at his movements of hanging his coat by the door, finding Harry sitting on his bed with his back leant on the headboard.

"Where to?" he inquired without curiosity, feeling the skip of his heartbeat.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head, his words unclear from the effects of drinking too much.

"Okay," he nodded his head not sure about what to reply him with, hence he just turned away to hang his coat. It's not very uncommon, their secret rendezvous.

"Yeah," he heard the soft breath released by the man and sighed at his heart for beating so fast.

Pulling his pyjamas out from his trunk, he walked towards the bathroom to escape Harry's vision that already had him flushed to his ear tips.

"Hey listen," if he were to be very honest with himself, Draco had expected that call, because, everytime, it started like that.

"Yes?" though, in reply, Harry just offered his hand up in the air for Draco to hold, squeezing the air out of his chest.

With uncertain steps, Draco made it near the bed and slid his fingers on Harry's palm, registering the familiar roughness of his skin for the second time in his heart, his eyes roaming on the face in front of him nervously.

"Have you noticed, your hand's really small compared to mine." Harry pointed out, pulling him down on the bed, urging him to sit down without words.

"Hm," Draco hummed, as his eyes followed the movement of Harry's fingers on his palm, as he tried to align his to prove his words.

"Isn't it?" he said, successfully getting his way with Draco's palm and looked up.

Draco nodded his head this time, meeting his eyes with the greens, that searched his for Merlin knew what.

"Say something," Harry whispered filling him with butterflies around his stomach but he never knew what to say when around him when they were alone. The only thing he could do right then was feel his movements on his skin as he intertwined their fingers and lifted his hand to press his lips on his knuckles.

"I love your skin." funny how he could say the same thing about him, but he couldn't, with Harry looking at him like he was about to kiss him on the lips, while a hand found its way on his face and caressed the supple skin.

Outside, the whistling storm pushed the closed windows, letting a flake or two of snow in the almost dark room with a single candle glowing at one corner near the ceiling; but Draco remained unconscious about it when Harry pulled him on his thighs and met their lips, hands on either side of his face. The old fragrance hit him harder than the evening, only this time he could recognise it as a mixture of wet soil and old books, the taste of his favourite brand of whiskey tainting his tongue, drawing an end to his mental debate, that he liked it way better the second way.

Expecting something from the young man had been out of question for Draco, because the thin line between expectation and disappointment had been crossed a million times in his past by people he couldn't have assumed, among those times, Harry held a thousand serials. Laying on the bed under him, as Draco absorbed the little nonsense indecent words whispered by Harry in his ears mixed with the moans, he could only solve broken possibilities in his mind about what was to come the next morning. Though, when their clothes finally lay in an untidy heap on the floor, the thoughts disappeared into nothingness along with his fatigue and the feeling of bone freezing cold on the other side of the walls.

To say that it was hard, would be an understatement for Draco, just like it had been to walk back to his bed that night to avoid any unexpected revelation for both of them. Settling back to being normal around each other seemed a lot easier for Harry from Draco's perspective, but for him, merely looking his way was a job when he could still hear his sweet voice echoing through his mind. Hence, even more than before, he tried to camouflage his pale skin in the whites of the snow, wishing it would stay longer than it should.

The margin hadn't ever been crossed before, and the need to open up to Pansy was knocking on his heart, struggling to find a way to cope, even if he wanted to leave that decision for Harry to make.

With the book on his lap, his mind tried to focus on the words stamped in bold letters, describing the process of brewing an antidote for rabies, something he thought would help him get his mind off from things that shouldn't matter when he graduated from Hogwarts, something that could help him achieve his dream to be a healer someday, if the government declared him innocent enough to allow him a license. For a while after the trials, he had been trying to contact institutions for a course of healer, but enrolling in schools with criminal records and just three OWLs was never easy for anyone. For his father, it was easy to roam about on the streets with a stamp of a Death Eater on his arm and bark orders at people with a cane, but it wouldn't be for him with his will to live a life where people didn't spat at his back or whisper profanities about him while amongst peers, would always come in his way, because he had grown up to be a different man than his father and for that, if anyone ever taunted him for being womanly, he would tell them that he was proud to be like his mother; strong and a person with self respect.

The faint silver rays hit his face, and he looked up to find the sun peeking through the clouds probably melting the snow already in the middle of January. With a sigh, Draco reasoned with himself about it being natural, as he could already see few inches of the soil peeking up at the sky ready to grow fresh blades of grasses around next month.

As the reasons of staying inside and warm evaporated in the air, the burden of homework piled up at their desks with an alarming rate, leaving no scope for a single spare thought, as every teacher pressurized them with the importance of the NEWTs for any jobs they wished to pursue in their future. When Draco had let Professor McGonagall on his wish, the middle-aged lady had looked him in the eye and glared at him for good two minutes before sighing and passing an appreciative nod at him.

"I will pray you achieve your goal to help people." she had said with pursed lips while sliding a pamphlet along with a signed letter across her desk towards him. "If I ever get even a whiff of funny business on your trail, young man, I won't hesitate to send a signed letter to the ministry on behalf of Professor Dumbledore requesting your arrest."

The letter was a special recommendation of the Headmistress of Hogwarts with the permissions of Albus W. B. Dumbledore, which he waved around in front of Hermione's face while skipping around the Common Room.

"Sweet Jesus, what is this for!" Hermione squeaked while reading the letter, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Professor McGonagall had summoned me for a council this morning, and I told her that I wanted to be a healer after Hogwarts, but no institutions were allowing me to enroll as a student. So she looked up my grades in assignments this year and the OWL exams and gave me the letter." Draco ranted with a grin and for the umpteenth time bouncing on the couch with excitement.

With a hand over her mouth, she sat there staring at him. "Oh my god, Draco, congratulations!" Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, almost smothering him in the process.

"Thank you!" he squeaked from between her arms that was still wrapped around him.

"You're most welcome — "

"What's the occasion?"

The grin on his mouth had almost faded away when he turned towards the voice at the door, "Professor McGonagall gave me this letter." he said, preventing his breath from abandoning him as he sucked in a lungful of oxygen, and raised the letter for him to see.

"A recommendation! Congratulations!" Harry pressed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as their eyes met for the first time after the night.

"Thanks," Draco nodded his head with a smile.

Amongst the people Draco connected with, it astonished him how more dedicated Hermione was about her career than he had presumed but not at all the nerd everyone supposed her to be. Wondering about all the little adventures the three friends had spoken about, there were a few moments when Draco had been curious about how they always made it through without failing, and every time his answer had been bravery, friendship and intellect, even if it sounded too overdramatic to him.

As the the NEWTs neared, both gradually and astoundingly he got on better with the woman, just like the time he had shown the letter to everyone and she had been almost as excited about it as he was, really feeling what he was feeling about the opportunity. In the whole batch of the eighth years, Hermione was the only person that comprehended his need and desire to accomplish his dreams as they both had something to prove to the people who thought they were incompetents.

"Slughorn scheduled a quiz on Thursday." Draco called to Hermione.

"This Thursday!" Hermione gasped from the floor, where she was busy with her Charms assignment, a five scroll long essay.

"Uh-huh," Draco nodded his head. "Says he needs to know if the class is catching up well."

"He can't have! We have a DADA test on that day!" Hermione shook her head.

"I know, but we have got a Quidditch game tomorrow, don't worry." Draco smirked at her knowingly. "And it's Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, so, I'm not going to watch it."

"Oh, thanks to God." she sighed at the ceiling.

"Don't, thank Harry. He convinced McGonagall to shift the game, so the finale gets over before a week of the NEWTs, so that the players get enough time to revise." Draco smiled at her. "So, from now on, it's two games a week, and we get enough time to prepare."

Hermione sniggered behind her hand. "That manipulator!"

"Yes, it worked out like that."

Though a worry remained for Draco, as most hospitals did not account institutional certificates for failed OWLs, not at least St. Mungo's did. On the matter, he had consulted with Hermione about what hospitals probably accepted certificates, and she had listed around ten of them, both out of Scotland or England, and they weren't of very good reputation.

"There's a way though. You can gain a few years of experience from them, and then try around with better options. St. Mungo's accepts experienced healers without enough NEWTs." she had adviced.

That would mean leaving his mother in Wiltshire for years, though it was something he could think about when the time came. Untill the year, he had never thought about leaving England and not go back at the end of the term, but to gain what he wanted he had to take the hard step, and he promised himself that it wouldn't be forever, neither for his mother, nor for himself.